


Bad Romance: The Morning After

by JerseyGirl324



Series: Bad Romance [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Butt Plugs, M/M, Morning After, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerseyGirl324/pseuds/JerseyGirl324
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the day after the events of Bad Romance; the Doctor finally gets some satisfaction, and the Master worries about remaining in control...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Romance: The Morning After

The Doctor wakes up feeling rather sore, a dull ache besieging the various muscles and joints of his body. He’s grown quite accustomed to pain, and stretches languidly in bed, moaning softly as the tension gradually dissipates. He’s still exhausted, but knows the Master will be expecting his breakfast soon. Yawning, the Doctor moves into a sitting position; he winces at the pronounced tenderness in his arse—a sharp reminder of the previous day’s activities. It is fortunate that the bodies of Time Lords can withstand so much; if he were human, he would surely be well past his breaking point by now. Aware that there will be punishment if he keeps the Master waiting, he promptly covers his lower half with a pair of trousers and proceeds sluggishly to the kitchen.

The other Time Lord is already there, fully dressed and sitting at the table with an open book in his hand. The Doctor catches a glimpse of the cover: it’s the _Story of O_ , and he can’t help but feel amused at the Master’s choice. It’s no surprise, really, and he finds himself hoping fervently that his partner isn’t getting too many novel ideas. It had always been his intention to sort through the TARDIS library, removing any materials that might be a bad influence on his sadistic lover—but it is clearly too late for that now.

“Have you read this?” the Master inquires, voice just a tad too excited.

“Once…” the Doctor replies cautiously. “Years back.” He doesn’t elaborate, having no wish to fuel his fellow Time Lord’s already over-active imagination. Instead, he quietly puts the kettle on and prepares to fry the bacon for their breakfast. He doesn’t much care for cooking, but the Master expects to be catered to—and has no qualms about expressing displeasure when the service fails to meet his standards.

“Isn’t it just enthralling?” the Master probes, unwilling to let the subject drop.

“I can’t really remember, actually.”

As he moves about the kitchen, the Doctor is keenly aware of the Master’s devious gaze following him, taking in the sight of his naked torso and the prominent welts on his back. The kettle soon begins to whistle, and he swiftly prepares the English Breakfast Tea—with one sugar—that his partner favors. As soon as he sets the hot cuppa down on the table, the Master grabs his arse possessively and gives it a tight squeeze.

“Maybe I’ll brand _you_ one day…” the Master muses seductively, gazing up at the Doctor’s guarded expression. “Right _here_ ,” he continues, conferring another firm, deliberate squeeze. “Then you’ll always know who you belong to.”

“I hardly need such a dramatic reminder, Master,” the Doctor points out nervously, desperate to take the conversation in a less sinister direction.

“You don’t want to bear my mark?” the Master pouts, slightly affronted.

“We both know that I’m yours. How could I be anything else?”

“My dear Doctor, your declarations of loyalty are melting my hearts.”

“You know I speak the truth,” the Doctor replies softly, gently freeing himself from the Master’s suggestive grasp. “Now let me finish making our breakfast.”

The Doctor heads back to the stove, tending to the bacon to prevent it from burning. The Master watches silently, and thinks about how utterly devoted his lover is. In many ways, he finds it beautiful, knowing that the Doctor, _his_ Doctor, needs him so desperately. It’s the most glorious thing in the world to break him, to _own_ him, and then to simply watch as he builds himself up again, stronger than before. The Master smiles to himself, proud of his ability to satisfy the other Time Lord’s darkest, basest desires. The Doctor tries so very hard to deny his jaded nature—but the Master knows better. Quite simply, the Master knows how to get inside his head, to possess him inside and out.

“Just about done,” the Doctor calls out, china clinking as he grabs plates haphazardly from the cupboard and heaps bacon and toast upon them.

“Well it’s about time!” the Master snorts, angry with himself for letting the lazy tart sleep in so late.

The Doctor carries the plates over to the table, sets them down, and grimaces ever so slightly as he lowers himself into a chair. The fleeting expression doesn’t escape the Master, however, who gives an absolutely depraved smirk as he digs in to his breakfast. He radiates smugness, clearly pleased with himself; the Doctor simply ignores him, focusing instead on his plate of food. They eat in silence, the Master formulating his plans for the day’s proceedings. He fancies something a bit different, and it isn’t long before he comes up with an idea.

“You’ve been very good today, Doctor,” he observes mildly. “Good enough to be allowed to get off, I think.”

“I would appreciate that very much, thank you, Master,” the Doctor replies graciously, excited at the prospect of at last getting some fulfillment.

The Master finishes the last bites of his food and stands up. “Meet me in the bedroom when you’re finished here,” he orders casually. He then strides from the room without further elaboration, leaving his partner behind to handle the clean up.

The Doctor quickly clears the table, moving everything into the sink and rapidly washing it off. He’s eager to get the chore done, but takes time to ensure that he does it properly. When he finally finishes and joins the Master in the bedroom, he finds him already naked, sprawled lazily upon the bed, a tranquil expression gracing his features.

“Get over here and suck,” the Master commands idly.

The Doctor complies at once, moving onto the bed and taking the Master’s cock in his hand. He gives a few firm, slow strokes, enjoying the soft feel of it, then lowers his mouth to the task at hand. He takes the tip between his lips and hums gently, causing the Master to groan in appreciation. Encouraged, he proceeds to lower his mouth indulgently onto the shaft, slicking it with saliva and drawing positively lewd noises from his partner in the process. The Doctor enjoys this, enjoys the heavy feel of the Master’s cock in his mouth, enjoys giving him pleasure, enjoys driving him wild. He continues to tease and suck, moving back to the tip and swirling his tongue around the head with enough finesse to elicit an absolutely gorgeous whimper from his partner.

The Master is now rock hard, and somewhat surprised to find himself surrendering passively to the ministrations. For once, he doesn’t force, doesn’t _take_ , but simply allows the Doctor to _give_ , running a hand gently through his lover’s disheveled hair in encouragement. His body tingles deliciously, every nerve alight. He watches contentedly for what seems like an eternity, drinking in the lovely sight of flushed, crimson cheeks, swollen lips, talented pink tongue, and silky brown hair sticking up in the most debauched manner. The effect is hypnotic, and he feels as though he is falling into a trance, drawn into the warm, velvet dampness of the Doctor’s skillful mouth.

Beads of pre-cum start to drip lazily down the Master’s shaft; and he gazes in astonishment as the Doctor licks purposefully from root to tip, capturing every last drop with his tongue before finally, without warning, swallowing him whole, suckling him, and it’s _beautiful, incredible_ , the most sensational feeling. The Master bucks sharply, arching his back; an involuntary whine escapes his lips and _fuck_ he panics he’ll come too soon…before they have a chance to complete his carefully thought-out plans…because he absolutely _cannot_ take much more of the Doctor’s warm, wet mouth straining sumptuously around him…

“Stop,” he whimpers suddenly, terrified of losing control.

“Is it okay, Master?” the Doctor asks in a reassuring voice. “Is it good for you?”

“Yes,” the Master responds abruptly. He struggles to compose himself. “It’s too soon, that’s all. I have other plans for you, plans that I think you’ll enjoy.”

“Oh?” the Doctor replies, the barest hint of a smile playing on his moist lips.

“Yes. Now, take off your trousers and lie back on the bed.” The Master has returned to his senses; he’s firmly back in control.

“Yes, Master,” the Doctor croons, stripping off his clothes and positioning himself as instructed. His taut body is slightly sweaty, his face still flushed scarlet.

“Good boy.” The Master heads to the large wooden trunk in the corner and proceeds to rummage through its contents, removing rope, cuffs, lube, and a large plug. It’s been a while since he’s done this; he wants to make sure the experience is absolutely flawless, choreographed to perfection.

He returns to the prostrate Doctor, leaning in for a slow, probing kiss. He can taste himself there, both salty and sweet, and it turns him on even more. The other Time Lord returns the kiss with equal passion, not content to be passive, not at this intimate moment. For a while, it’s all clashing tongues and teeth, then the Master pulls back; it’s time to get down to the business at hand. He begins moving the Doctor’s limbs, first cuffing his wrists securely to the bedposts, then binding his ankles together with the rope. His partner proves amenable, offering no resistance against the restraints. _Obedient as always_ , the Master notes, smirking devilishly as he expertly finishes the job.

“You know what I think?” he inquires, leisurely stroking the Doctor’s hardening cock. “I think you want to be _inside_ me, to feel me all around you. Is that about right?”

“Oh God _yes_ Master…” the Doctor breathes lustfully.

“Well, seeing as I’m in a generous mood, I’ll grant you what you want.”

The Master lies seductively beside the Doctor, so close but not touching. He opens the lube and applies a generous amount to his fingers, wanting to put on a good show. He has to admit that he’s always been something of an exhibitionist. Then, ever so slowly, he reaches around and begins to prepare his own arse, probing gently at the tight hole and moaning softly. The Doctor watches hungrily, clearly entranced. Which is exactly how the Master wants him. Moaning even louder, he slides two fingers inside his body, stretching himself carefully and working his prostate with enthusiasm.

When the muscles feel sufficiently relaxed, the Master finally picks up the plug and covers it with lube. He grins licentiously at the Doctor as he positions the toy and pushes it deep inside, reveling in the pleasant fullness of it. He allows himself a few moments to adjust, to truly remember what it feels like to be penetrated. It’s been a rather long time, and he finds himself pleased with his decision to go through with this. The Master moves the plug in and out, opening himself up for his Doctor, who waits for him like an eager puppy. It isn’t long before he’s ready to continue.

“Now then,” the Master begins, moving to straddle the Doctor. “I’m going to take your engorged cock, let you inside me. You can make as much noise as you want, but under no circumstances are you allowed to thrust upward. Is that clear?”

“Mmmm perfectly, Master,” his partner replies hazily.

Instructions given and understood, the Master slicks the Doctor with a thorough coat of lube, staring down at his drugged, unfocused expression. _This is going to be brilliant_ , he thinks, positioning himself directly over his fellow Time Lord’s throbbing erection. He carefully spreads his arse cheeks and begins to lower himself, emitting a wanton cry as the head breeches the tight sphincter. Ever so teasingly, he continues downward, body growing accustomed to the Doctor’s thick girth, welcoming it inside. Before long, he is completely impaled; and it is then that they are _both_ reduced to whimpering, both overcome by the intensity of the stimulation.

The Master waits for a few moments, regaining his composure. The feeling of being stretched and filled is incredible, so much better than he remembers. He begins to ride the Doctor’s cock, moving easily up and down, angling himself for maximum sensation. Beneath him, the other Time Lord is clearly unraveling, which causes the Master to smirk with glee. He wants to see the Doctor come undone, and is certain that he’ll be able to make it happen. His partner’s breathing is hitched, and he is emitting the most lewd and tantalizing of sounds. _Excellent. Fucking excellent._

“Please. It’s so good…Master…need _more_ …” the Doctor pleads, desperately struggling not to buck, glistening drops of perspiration dampening his face and hair.

The Master benevolently complies, careful not to drive himself too far, not yet. He needs the Doctor to come first, needs to see him reduced to a writhing mess below. Only then will he be able to allow his own release. The Master clenches his muscles exquisitely and works in a steady rhythm, allowing the Doctor to revel in the hot, velvet tightness of his body; he is enjoying himself far more than he would ever be willing to admit. He realizes that they are both close, and finally tends to his own leaking cock, grasping it tightly and pumping hard.

“Come for me, Doctor,” the Master whispers. “Come _apart_ for me.”

“Uhhh…yes… _Master_!” the Doctor cries out, violently arching his back and compliantly emptying himself into his lover’s receptive body. _Perfect, so perfect_ , the Master thinks deliriously. The gorgeous sight is all it takes to bring him over the edge, and he soon spills triumphantly onto the Doctor’s pale stomach, enormously pleased with himself for having achieved the desired result. For a time, neither of them is able to move or speak, equally spent in the dozy aftermath of release.

The Master is the first to recover his wits. “I bet you enjoyed that, you filthy little slut,” he purrs silkily, still impaled on the Doctor’s softening cock.

“Mmmm yes,” his lover murmurs, barely coherent.

“I had a feeling you would,” the Master slyly replies, lifting up his body and cautiously getting to his feet. “You really should see yourself. You look utterly _depraved_ ,” he continues gleefully. “In fact, I think I’ll just leave you like this while I go take a shower.”

The Doctor, finally sated, is far too disoriented to protest, and the Master flashes him one last devious grin before disappearing into the bathroom.  



End file.
